Page 15 of Powerless

Typical.

I was counting on the guards’ predictable laziness and failure to finish tasks. And I hadn’t wanted the banished family paraded through the streets like they typically are, because then I would have a crowd to witness my treason.

Once they’ve passed us, we slip onto the street and head for the sand. The family is far ahead, and since I’m feeling rather lazy myself, I reach out to grab hold of one of the Imperial’s Flash ability. He’ll be out of my range soon, so I hurry to pick up the girl and dash into the desert.

We’ve nearly made it to the family when distance has Flash’s ability slipping away from me. Nathan startles at the sound of us behind him and spins, eyes wide when they land on Abigail in my arms.

Layla is running towards us and has the girl wrapped in her arms in a matter of moments with the whole family encircling the two of them. They sob as I step aside, feet shifting in the scolding sand that has begun spilling into my shoes.

And then they turn towards me, eyes burning hotter than the sun beating down on us. Nathan only offers me one word, low and laced with hatred. “Why?”

I slip out my dagger and cut the bindings around his wrists in one swift movement, meeting his gaze as I say, “I don’t kill children.”

Hypocrite.

As if that is not exactly what I’m doing. In fact, I’m only prolonging the inevitable. But at least they will all get to be together in the end—a mockery of mercy that I only bestow upon children.

I move down the line of stunned prisoners, cutting their bound hands free. I look them each in the eyes, most still glossy with tears, before turning to the little girl. The Ordinary.

Abigail.

I walk towards her slowly and lower myself to one knee, sinking deep into the hot sand so we’re eye to eye. Though she doesn’t say a thing, her eyes speak volumes. She’s only a child, and yet I see a devastating amount of determination behind her gaze.

Perhaps you may not need powers to be powerful.

I reach into my pocket, pulling out a small pocketknife from within. Its white handle is engraved with golden swirls, but its small blade is sharp. I hold it out to her.

“Every girl deserves something as equally pretty and deadly as they are,” I say, urging her to take the knife. She eyes me wearily before stretching out a small hand to pluck it from my palm. “Use it wisely.”

I run a hand through my hair as I stand to my feet with a sigh. “In accordance with our laws and by decree of King Edric, I hereby banish you from the Kingdom of Ilya for your acts of treason.”

With that, I watch as Nathan puts an arm around his wife who in turn reaches out an arm for her children to huddle into.

They turn as one.

And I watch as they walk to their doom.

ChapterSix

Kai

Despite my swollenknee screaming in protest, I force myself to walk evenly. By the time I made it back onto Loot Alley, late afternoon had cast the street in a warm glow. I always enjoyed it down here. There’s nothing regal about the slums of Ilya, and yet, it’s refreshing in a way the stuffy palace never could be.

My eyes sweep back and forth as I weave through the throng of people bartering, cursing, and shopping. I allow myself a moment to take in the sights and smells of Loot—neither of which very pleasant. Everything down here is dull, leeched of color. The banners, the food, the people. By midday, the street always smells of sweaty bodies and questionable food.

But despite it all, Loot is buzzing withlife.

The crowd pushes and pulls me in different directions like a human current, and I fight to escape the wave of people. I finally break free to head down a smaller, less crowded alley where homeless crouch against walls, some begging for money while others use their powers to entertain themselves. Though the slums are mostly home to the Mundanes, I spot the occasional Defensive Elite sprinkled among them. The purple glow of forcefields engulfing a few catch my eye, as well as a Shimmer manipulating the light around him into a darting beam, occupying both himself and a stray cat.

I keep walking as I look around, paying no attention to the path before me.

And apparently, neither was the person who slams into my chest with a grunt.

Instinctively, I reach out to steady the individual before they fall over from the impact, my arms wrapping around their waist.Herwaist. The body I’m holding undoubtedly belongs to a female, though the mass of long silver hair brushing against my arms is proof enough.

She’s small but strong, leaner than most of the scrawny girls from the slums. I can feel it in the curve of her waist where my hand fits comfortably, though it’s evident that malnourishment stripped her of most of the muscle she evidently once had.

Her palm is pressed to my chest where a thick ring hugs her thumb, and after a few seconds of studying her while she attempts to steady herself, she heaves a shaky breath before meeting my gaze.

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